


I'm Sorry

by WolfAndHound_Archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Death, Horror, Post-Second War with Voldemort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-06
Updated: 2016-02-06
Packaged: 2018-05-18 13:49:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5930665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfAndHound_Archivist/pseuds/WolfAndHound_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Featuring ghostly Sirius, plenty of angst, and the end of the world as we know it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Lassenia, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [Wolf and Hound](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Wolf_and_Hound), which was created to make stories posted to the Sirius_Black_and_Remus_Lupin Yahoo! mailing list easier to find. However, even though I still love the fandom, I am no longer active in it and do not have the time to maintain it. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in December 2015. I posted an announcement with Open Doors, but we may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on the [Wolf and Hound collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/wolfandhound/profile).

Tell me how it's fair for an _atheist_ to have to conform to religious rules after death?

Sweet Remus... _he_ killed, and yet he's moved on. Perhaps this... this... oh, fuck it, this _God_ has forgiven him, blessed him, sent him on his final journey to heaven because it wasn't _Remus_ who killed, it was the wolf. Or perhaps God doesn't care about such trivialities. Maybe he looked at the ripped and mutilated remains of one of his Children and cursed my love, sent him to Hell.

Whatever. I wish _I_ were there. Hell would be Heaven if only I could spend my damned eternity in his arms. But _this_... this is worse than Hell.

I'm a murderer, yes. I killed Death Eaters, killed Flitwick and Hooch when they turned on us, and I killed the man I loved. I'm a killer. But to be fair, we're _all_ killers. Even Oliver Wood's seven year old daughter is a killer -- she pushed her dad down the stairs when he tried to rape her. God, I hope he was under Imperius...

Here I am again, using the name of He who's left me here for the rest of time and beyond. What sort of fucking terrible joke is that? Kind God, we're brought up to believe. Benevolent God. Benevolent my arse.

God can take lives away here and there and _still_ he's loved and praised (even when it's only in desperation, as a last resort). Men and women and children can kill their families and _still_ be sent to Heaven or Hell.

But me? Yes, I killed God's most beautiful creation, but that's not what I'm damned for. I killed _myself_.

What else could I do? How could I go on breathing when I knew Remus' soft breath would never be there in my face when he leaned over my sleeping form to kiss me into the day? How could I let my heart carry on its incessant thumping after that silver bullet tore through his head, taking away blissful memories as well as life? Yes, I _know_ we've all lost loved ones. I should have put it to the back of my mind like everyone else did, and just continued. I made a pledge to James and Lily that I'd keep their son safe at all costs. I promised to lay down my life for him, to love him and help him and teach him like a father if they couldn't be there to do it themselves.

I tried, I really did, but how could I go on living without half of my soul? It would have been a half-life, a cursed life. Living with half a soul and the deep desperation that filled the void for the few seconds it took to move the gun barrel from his head to mine... well, that would have weakened my defences against Imperius, and I could well have been forced to turn on Harry or Ron.

Oh, who am I trying to fool? I didn't even _think_ of Harry. I saw the blood soaking into the pillow and the way the pulse in Remus' neck gave one last sluggish movement before stilling for eternity, and I knew I couldn't go on.

You think I'm happy with that? You think I _like_ having to admit to such a weakness? Fuck you. You don't know the first thing about me and my Remus. You think you've been in love before? Ever had the feeling that you're connected to your lover like Lyra was to Pantalaimon? Ever felt physical pain when you were parted, even if it was only a few feet? No? Well, I _have_. I had love. Now I have nothing.

Really nothing.

We lost the war, of course. So did they. We all lost. I was there when Harry and Dumbledore decided what to do.

"It's spreading, Harry," Dumbledore said quietly. I didn't know what he was talking about, so I went inside his head. I almost wish I hadn't now. Anthrax. AIDS. Cancer. Voldemort had found a way to get every lethal disease there was into the air. The world was dying -- all but those whom he decided to bless with some sort of cleansing charm. Crazy fuck. His obsession with genocide, with ridding the world of Muggles, Muggle-borns and Muggle-lovers, was insane. There'd only be about five thousand left to rule over. I don't know what he was thinking.

Harry coughed weakly into his fist. "I know," he said calmly. "Ron's covered in tumours, huge ones. And I've caught something too. Don't know what. I don't think I'll last much longer."

Dumbledore paused, and the light in his blue eyes that had been dimming over the last years gave one last brave flicker before disappearing. "Then it's over," he said. "They've won."

The green of Harry's eyes was bright and shimmering behind his tears. "No," he said quietly. "I have an idea." He coughed again and retched into his hand, throwing up a massive clot of blood and wiping it absentmindedly on his robes. "We're all dying, right? Why don't we take Voldemort with us?"

I could see James in Harry right then, in the set of his jaw and the determined look in his eyes and even the little detail of forgotten stubble on his chin. Maybe it was fate that James, too, had been 24 and ill when he died? Okay, James just had a touch of flu, but still... well, I don't know.

The end was quick. I'm glad of that. They've been through enough already, they didn't need a painful death.

I was there. I was there when the most powerful wizard of all time spoke the Deplorable Word, passed down through history and last used by the Witch-Queen Jadis. I know it's Dark magic, but I still think their choice to use it was a good one.

Buildings collapsed, mountains crumbled, oceans dried up. The Dark Lord gave out a great roar of hate, drowned out moments later by the scream of the dying Earth.

Yes, it was quick. A few seconds at most. Harry held hands with Ron and Ginny as they died and rotted and turned to dust and blew away, all in the blink of an eye. Then the last living thing on the planet cast Avada Kedavra on himself.

We're here forever, Harry and I. Forever is such a long time. I can't even begin to contemplate it. We move around our dead planet, but it all looks the same -- ruined buildings, and dust. Always dust. It's everywhere.

Every now and then we come across another almost-ghost of a suicide. They never speak to us, just look at us sorrowfully with large, mournful eyes, and pass us by. We rarely speak to _each other_ , although I think he takes scant comfort in my presence, as I do in his.

Evil is dead. But so is good, and hope. Hope is dead.

And Remus is dead, and I must go on for the rest of eternity without him, because I _should_ have carried on living, _should_ have died in battle like all my brave companions.

And I should have told Harry. I couldn't speak, but I should have entered his head and told him in the ghostly way I never knew was possible until I was dead...

...I should have told him that suicide was a bad idea. He was dying anyway. I should have told him to let nature take its course -- it would have killed him in due time.

I _should_ have told him, but I didn't.

Turns out there was no point in making sure he'd stay here with me. I'm _still_ incomplete, _still_ lonely, and I've dragged my dear godson into this infinite limbo for nothing.

There's no Remus here. There's just endless nothingness.

I wish I could tell Harry that I'm sorry, but neither of us have felt like communicating for eons. I don't know how long it's been, but the sun's expanded so much that fires keep breaking out on the planet's surface, even though there's nothing left to burn.

When the sun engulfs Earth, we'll be here to see it. We'll watch every star in the... I won't say heavens. We'll watch every star in the universe wink out of existence, and eventually we'll witness the birth of a new universe.

Ad infinitum.

~END~


End file.
